


All roads lead to memories

by roryteller



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Gen, Lesbian Character, On the Run, Road Trips, Sibling Bonding, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 03:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6594457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryteller/pseuds/roryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Alex and J'onn are on the run, shortly before 1x19 (Myriad), Alex listens to some music on the radio that reminds her of a couple of road trips in her past, one before Kara became part of the family, and one after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All roads lead to memories

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by tumblr user yokothetypo: while on the run with j'onn, alex is reminded of those roadtrips her family would take when she was younger, with and without kara. songs come on the radio remind her of those times (and truth be told, her dad. he was always the belt the song at the top of your voice kinda guy).
> 
> I headcanon that National City is located where Los Angeles is in our world, and that Midvale is somewhere on California's Central Coast.

They ditch the bikes as soon as they can. They're too conspicuous, and they can't use their real driver's licenses now that they're wanted criminals. They disguise themselves, Alex with a wig and a pink outfit that wouldn't look out of place in Kara's wardrobe, J'onn as a small child. Armed with a fake ID for Alex, a burner phone, and some cash, they head to a bus terminal. First stop, Midvale, to get more supplies.

Alex buys snacks for them—Chocos for J'onn and some of the junk she used to get on road trips as a kid, stuff her health-foodie parents wouldn't normally let her buy, like sour gummy worms, nacho cheese chips, and caramel popcorn. She even picks up a couple of packets of ramen. J'onn raises an eyebrow at that until she explains that she used to eat it dry as a kid, sprinkle the seasonings on top.

It's silly but right now her heart is heavy and she can't afford to dull her senses with alcohol so she seeks what comfort she can in sugar, salt, and grease.

They sit down to wait for the bus and J'onn digs into his Chocos while Alex pulls out the phone. It's a basic smartphone, with a built-in FM radio and cheapo earbuds, and out of boredom she turns on the radio, flipping to the National City Junior College station. It's on a song by Melissa Etheridge, something that dates back to when Alex was a teen or preteen. Maybe the DJ's about the same age. Who knows.

* * *

Alex is a kid, at least a year before Kara's arrival on Earth. She's got shotgun and Dad's driving while Mom snoozes in the back seat. Shotgun is cool because usually her parents take up the front seats of the minivan, and sitting up here lets her pick the radio station and talk with Dad.

They're out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on Highway 1 between two tiny beach towns on the Central Coast south of Midvale, and there's not much reception. Annoyed, Alex punches the 'seek' button until at last the radio finds something other than talk radio. It's a top 40 station, which is fine with her, even though usually they listen to oldies on road trips. They've got a couple of CDs lying around somewhere, but Alex wants to listen to something different. And hey, she even knows the song! She sings a couple of lines, Dad not joining in for once, and then it hits her and she stops singing.

“The kids at school said this singer is a lesbian,” she ventures. The word is heavy in her mouth, just as it was heavy in those kids' whispers.

“Could be,” says Dad, his eyes on the road. “What would you think of it, if she was?”

“I don't know,” she says, and she looks out the side window at the ocean, thinking. “They said it like it was a bad thing, but maybe it isn't.” She hopes it isn't, because she knows what it means, and she's afraid—terrified—that it might describe her. “Dad, would it be okay if I was a lesbian?”

He's silent for a moment, and when she turns back to see his expression he looks surprised. “Of course it would, pumpkin. I'd be happy for you.”

“Why?”

“Because it'd mean you figured yourself out. That you were able to be honest with yourself. Not everyone can do that, you know. But you don't have to figure that out yet. You've got all the time in the world.”

* * *

Tears prickle her eyes at the memory, one that she held onto, years later, when her actual coming-out to Eliza didn't go nearly so well. Not that Eliza had openly disapproved, but somehow Alex was still left feeling as though she had, once again, failed.

J'onn gives her a questioning glance and she blinks away the tears behind her sunglasses. He could read her mind if he wanted, but he won't.

“I was thinking about Jeremiah,” she says.

“I see,” says J'onn. It's still weird to hear his words coming out of a little kid's mouth, too old, too formal.

Alex eats a couple of chips, then switches to an oldies station, something more like what Jeremiah used to like. What he still likes. Alex has to keep reminding herself that he's probably still alive out there somewhere, that they're going to get him back. It feels like a crazy hope, one that she almost can't believe in.

“Hey, do you want to listen too? It's the kind of stuff we used to listen to on road trips, when Jeremiah was still around.” She pulls one of the earbuds out of her ear and holds it out to him. At first she doesn't think he'll accept it but he does, and they sit there listening to the music with their heads together like a couple of high school kids, except that she's twenty-six and he looks like he's a kid but is hundreds of years old.

It's weird, and not as nostalgic as it could be, but it's not bad.

* * *

It's Kara's first summer on Earth, and she's picking up English with amazing speed, but sometimes she still forgets the words for something simple, or says words that should make sense in an order that doesn't, or stares out the window for no apparent reason, or goes silent and stiff or panicky when all the noises get to be too much.

In short, time hasn't knocked the edges off of her weirdness yet, and Alex hasn't learned to love her yet, though under her parents' watchful eyes she's trying.

They're sitting in the back of the minivan, driving down I-5 to National City instead of going camping like they had originally planned because, according to Mom, Kara needs to see a big human city. Alex is grumpy because she loves camping, loves setting up the tent and roasting marshmallows and loves how she can see the stars stretch out endlessly above her in a way the lights of even a town like Midvale don't allow, loves finding weird critters in the creek and watching birds. She's also grumpy because everything seems to be about Kara now and she misses being the center of attention.

Alex argues that Kara's already seen Metropolis, never mind that it was only for a few hours after Superman picked her up, while he was trying to figure out who could take care of her, but Mom and Dad are united on this and she fails to convince them.

So Alex keeps the nacho cheese chips all to herself and steals Kara's gummy bears when she thinks Kara isn't looking and glares at everything but especially at Kara and makes fun of Kara's attempts at conversation and after a while it's too much even for the usually tolerant alien to put up with.

“Eliza!” she whines, “Alex is being mean!”

Eliza is driving and Alex can't quite see her face but she can imagine her gritting her teeth. She says nothing at first, just pulls over into the nearest rest stop, and doesn't get out of the car. Out the window, Alex can see the usual drab gray buildings, half-dead grass, and informational plaques you see at rest stops throughout California. It's hot outside, but the car is air-conditioned, and nobody bothers to roll down their windows.

“Alexandra Danvers,” she says at last, turning in her seat so that Alex can see the anger on her face. “What have I said about being nice to your sister?”

“But-” Alex knows she's being mean and petty but she can't help how she feels—like everything wrong in her life right now is Kara's fault.

“No. You apologize to her right now. Think how you would feel, if you were in her shoes!”

Alex tries not to think about it, and of course that means that she does, imagining how she would feel if Mom and Dad and everyone she knew were dead and she was alone on a new world and people were being mean to her for no good reason.

Suddenly she feels guilty.

“I'm sorry, Kara,” she says, and she means it, but Mom is still glaring at her so she elaborates. “Sorry I made fun of you and took your candy and didn't share. Here.” She holds out the chips.

Kara meets her eyes and takes one. There's a little vulnerable quiver to her lower lip and Alex feels bad looking at it but they're not on good enough terms yet for her to just give Kara a hug and it's her own fault anyway so she just looks away and hang her head a bit.

“That's better,” says Mom. “Now behave.”

“Okay,” says Alex.

“Does anyone need to use the bathroom before we go?” asks Mom.

No one does, so they return to the highway.

“How about some music?” asks Dad, holding up one of their favorite CDs, a mix he helped Alex pick out and that she burned herself, with a slightly off-center label to prove it.

“Sure,” says Alex, and neither Kara nor Mom objects, so he puts it in.

When it gets to their favorite track Dad breaks into song and Alex joins in, belting it out at the top of her lungs. She looks over at Kara, and Kara's tapping her feet and staring out the window at the passing fields, so Alex nudges her.

“What?” asks Kara, a little apprehensive.

“Do you like this song? Want to learn it?” Alex smiles at Kara. Maybe this feeling won't last but right now she really wants to be nicer and maybe this is something they can share.

“I um, okay?”

“Hey, Dad, can you put it on repeat?”

“Sure.”

For the first couple of repeats Kara doesn't join in, but she's concentrating, a little frown on her face, her hand tapping out the rhythm against the side of her seat.

On the third time through Kara joins in for the chorus, and Alex is surprised and maybe a little jealous to realize that Kara has a great singing voice, even though she gets almost half the words wrong. But Alex pushes her jealousy out of the way, the guilt at Kara's kicked puppy expression still fresh on her mind, and just has Dad pause the music while they go through the chorus more slowly.

By the time they stop for lunch at a small-town diner Kara has most of the words down and they're both grinning as they sing along. Alex can hear Mom breathe a sigh of relief as the stereo cuts off and they step out of the car into a dry California heat that makes the asphalt shimmer.

“After lunch, I pick the music,” says Mom, and even Kara pouts at that, but she holds firm. “I'm glad you're getting along better, but if I have to hear that song one more time I think I'm going to pull my hair out.”

* * *

  
Alex snaps back to the present as an announcement comes over the speakers. Their bus is boarding, and she turns off the music, puts the phone in her oversized purse, and takes J'onn's little hand, as if he really were her son, even though it's almost, but not quite, exactly the other way around.


End file.
